


When They Make a Darker Color

by OxfordCommasRequired



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Universe, Established Relationship, High School, M/M, Nerd Will Solace, Punk Nico, kind of, vaguely canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 21:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13466694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OxfordCommasRequired/pseuds/OxfordCommasRequired
Summary: Will hates motorcycles. Hates them. Well, okay, more accurately, he is terrified of them. But he's really not fond of them.Unfortunately, he is really quite fond of Nico.Even when he's trying to be an asshole....Especially if he's dressed like that. Damn.





	When They Make a Darker Color

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably crap, but it was fun to write, so here, enjoy some crap!

He could feel eyes on him, could hear the whispers buzzing about the mysterious presence in their parking lot. Everyone was shooting him curious glances, and several groups of blatant gossipers had formed throughout the parking lot. Five boys here, ten girls there, what looked like a sports team gathered around the bed of a truck, and twos and threes checkered around him like a chess set, all failing to be inconspicuous as they cast him furtive looks and mumbled to each other.

Nico forced himself not to react. He’d expected to gain some attention, he reminded himself. Not this much, of course, but that sort of worked toward his objective — well, his secondary objective anyway. His lips twitched involuntarily.

Students had escaped the white stone building in droves after the bell rang, backpacks slung over their shoulders and phones in hand. Nico scanned them behind his sunglasses, chest hitching and fingers twitching as his gaze stuttered over every flash of light hair and every carrying, musical voice.

Restless, eager energy had almost overwhelmed his self-control when Nico _finally_ caught sight of his primary reason for being there.

He was tanner than Nico remembered. And blonder. And his freckles were darker. It was like someone had turned up the concentration on all the colors that made up Will Solace. He was wearing a light blue shirt, and even though Nico couldn’t see them from his vantage point, his breath quickened at the thought of how ridiculously vibrant it would make his eyes. _Dammit, Will, you’re making this harder than it needs to be._

The boy in question was talking to two people on his right — a black boy in glasses and a girl with dip-dyed teal hair who looked like she belonged in the Apollo cabin. Will’s gold curls bounced with his wild gestures, hands flying around to demonstrate whatever he was saying. Nico couldn’t hear him, but he could imagine the tone: a little high in his excitement, and a little too loud, but still subtly melodious no matter what he was saying. His mouth was curled up even as he spoke, that radiant, genuine smile that always made Nico feel warm to the core, like he was laying outside, dozing in the sun.

Then Will laughed.

Nico set off with a purposeful stride.

*

Will only noticed because of a group of girls whispering by the front doors. He was a few minutes late getting out, he knew, and usually the parking lot would be near-empty by this time. So why were a couple of drama kids still loitering, staring off into the parking lot? He was still mostly paying attention to his conversation with Zane and Jamie, but a little part of him was curious and followed their gaze.

He went absolutely blank.

Nico di Angelo was walking — was _sauntering_ toward him, and he looked like _sin_.

His legs, long and lean, were sheathed in faded black denim so shredded and so tight that Will could see his muscles coil and stretch with every step. His t-shirt was hardly better, thin black material ripped to reveal a collarbone and tease the tiniest flickers of skin at his waist. His jacket at least concealed the defined biceps and forearms Will knew were beneath, but that was the only reprieve it granted him, and the sweeping line it gave Nico’s shoulders, punctuated by burnished studs, and the open buckle at his throat, were more than enough to make up the difference. The heavy boots, the long hair curled behind pierced ears, the silver zippers and fasteners and ring, the Aviators framed by sharp eyebrows and killer cheekbones — Will wasn’t sure he wasn’t having a very vivid wet daydream.

Then Nico flicked the gleaming sunglasses up to his head, revealing his dark eyes, and Will knew he wasn’t fantasizing. He could never imagine those eyes, glittering with intent and locked on him. A little choked sound escaped him without any conscious attempt at vocalization.

The vibrations in his throat helped shake him back to himself, though, and he hurried to gather his scattered consciousness. Reason was just returning to him — at a glacial pace, but still — when Nico stopped, a foot from him, one hand tucked in a pocket, face turned just slightly down to keep their gazes locked.

 _He grew_ , Will thought, feeling vaguely surly in the back of his head, but unable to process why.

He opened his mouth to speak, hoping the English language wasn’t beyond him. Then Nico smirked, a troublemaking, lopsided thing that had his canines peaking past full lips, one dimple cut deeper than the other, and Will found himself just grateful his involuntary functions, like his heartbeat, hadn’t failed.

Some noise fell out of his mouth, but he wasn’t sure if it even qualified as babble.

That thought-melting grin still in place, Nico reached out with one steady hand and tucked his fingers under Will’s chin. He leaned forward until their lips met. Apparently kissing Nico was more instinctual to Will than speaking, because he had no problem returning the pressure of lips against his. The kiss was simple, just lips slotted together, but there was a heat to it, a heat that simmered and lingered, that spoke of long months separated and the charged relief of reunion.

When Nico finally did pull back, his fingers skimming over Will’s jaw before falling to his side, Will felt function begin to seep back into him. _You’re a human being with the ability to speak words_ , his brain helpfully reminded him. “Nico?” he murmured. Well, at least it was a real word. Hearing the name aloud, saying it _to_ him after months of inadequate Iris messages and emails, brought the reality of the moment finally, _finally,_ crashing down on him — his boyfriend was actually here, in the flesh, standing before him.

Oh, and he looked like the entire human race’s fantasy bad boy.

“Nico!”

Will flung himself forward. His arms latched together over Nico’s shoulders, his weight rocking them both back a little as he clung as close as he could get. Nico’s arms curled around his ribs. “Gods, I missed you,” Will muttered in his ear. In answer, Nico’s grip tightened, and his lips brushed Will’s collarbone as he burrowed closer.

For a moment, Will closed his eyes and just _breathed_ , savoring the way Nico’s chest pressed into his with their synchronized inhales, the way his hair tickled his neck, the way his chest felt a little warmer, a little fuller, just for having Nico around.

The endorphins buzzing through Will eventually made him break their embrace, the words that had abandoned him before all crowding to get out at once. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in New York? How long have you been here? I will surgically annihilate you if you’ve been here more than ten minutes and didn’t pull me out of that awful history lecture to see you.”

Nico just grinned. “I’ve only been in town five minutes, Solace. Save your scalpel.”

Will raised his eyebrows. “Five minutes? You _just_ got here? Why are you _here_ then — I mean, at my school?” And wow, yeah, that was pretty surreal: Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, savior of the world, hanging out in front of Austin High School, like he was a normal (albeit drop dead sexy) teenager.

Nico’s voice went even drier, that tone that Will wanted to hate, but could never quite manage to. “I’m just doing all the touristy things there are to do in Austin, and the high school was first on the list.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m here to see you, moron.”

“Me?” Will said, knowing it was dumb as soon as it left his mouth. He hurried on, cutting off Nico’s assuredly hilarious comment. “How long are you in town for?”

Nico shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes flickered to the ground in a self-conscious motion Will could identify from a mile away. “However long you want me, I guess.”

Will snorted. Nico glanced back up, and Will gave him an unimpressed look. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The dark haired demigod had gotten the message, if the change in the slope of his shoulders was any indication. _Pretty sure you’re not gonna be able to stay for as long as I’d want you to, and you should know that, so cut the crap._ Nico was getting better at recognizing when he was being overly insecure, though Will didn’t think it was arrogant to say it had a lot to do with how little of that crap he let Nico get away with. And maybe a little to do with the compliments he loved kissing into Nico’s skin until he flushed and smiled and stopped protesting.

He glanced to the side, where his friends were still standing, not bothering to stifle their grins. “Oh. Uh, Nico, these are my friends Zane and Jamie. Zane, Jamie — Nico.” He waved a little lamely.

Jamie stepped forward first, holding out a hand with lavender painted nails. Nico shook it. (Will saw the flash of a grimace he made at physical contact with strangers, but the look Nico shot his way right after, like a _remember why you’ll endure this_ to himself made Will’s heart stutter, and he was too slow to do anything.) “Good to finally meet the mysterious Nico,” Jamie said, the lightest tease in her voice.

Nico raised an eyebrow as he shook hands with Zane too. “Mysterious?”

“It seems like you’re all Will talks about,” Zane explained (totally falsely; Will definitely, probably, maybe talked about other things, sometimes), “but he never actually _tells_ us anything about you. All we know is that you’re Italian and make him blush like a little girl. We like to speculate that he keeps so tight-lipped because you’re related to someone really famous, and you guys are like, star-crossed lovers. You’re not the son of Danny DeVito or a mob boss or something by any chance, are you?”

Nico glanced at Will, a sly grin twitching at his lips that zipped an _uh-oh_ all the way to Will’s bones. He shrugged. “Not Danny DeVito or a mob boss, no.” Zane blinked, and Jamie half-choked on her gum. They looked at each other. Will groaned internally. “The Italian was on my mom’s side, though.”

Will, desperate to change the subject, floundered. “So are you my ride home then?” he blurted, a question that hadn’t quite formed in his head yet.

Nico nodded, releasing a smirk so wide and dangerous that Will wanted to find a wall to put at his back for protection (or to shove Nico against, maybe). He narrowed his eyes at that smirk, until another question that he probably should’ve asked first occurred to him. “Wait — how did you _get_ here?” He was pretty sure even Nico knew not to bring a zombie chauffeur to a mortal school.

Nico’s smirk only widened. He flicked a thumb over his shoulder, not even glancing back, keeping his gaze heavy on Will. The movement of his leather jacket made Will remember that Nico was dressed like he smoked cigarettes out back during school and got in brawls and made girls swoon when he winked at them or shoved them against walls and made out with them and — and that image was getting too extensive.

When his gaze flickered over Nico’s studded shoulder, Will’s eyes went wide. He felt the blood leave his face. Maybe Jules-Albert would’ve been better.

In the back of his head, it finally clicked. Nico looked like Danny Zuko _wished_ he’d looked, very purposefully, just to fuck with him. He’d taken his regular style and ratcheted it up, just so Will would hear about it from his classmates for the rest of his life. _Hey, remember that time that fucking gorgeous rebel dude came to pick up Will Solace? Wonder how straight-laced, goody-two-shoes Will knew someone like_ that. _And if he has any cute friends._ Well, it was a good story, at least. And whether or not anyone believed him, he did get to call said fucking gorgeous rebel dude his boyfriend. The back of his head shook a fist at Nico, but sighed in resignation.

Most of him was just freaking out about the motorcycle in front of him, though.

Will would not hesitate to admit that he knew next to nothing about motorcycles. All he knew was that they were loud, and still somehow snuck up on him when he was driving, and dangerous as all Hades, considering the kinds of injuries you could get from going that fast with basically nothing to protect you in a crash. But even Will could tell that the bike in front of him was a masterpiece. It was all glossy black and silver chrome, with something subtle in the style that told him it was a classic. Nico had parked it obnoxiously over the yellow striped non-parking spot right out front, which made almost too much sense, and made Will all the more nervous. It didn’t look like a low rider, at least, but that backseat looked like it was _designed_ to fling riders off as quickly as possible.

“I — I’m supposed to ride on… _that_?” he squeaked.

With his arms crossed over his chest, Nico laughed, a low grumble that matched his image and made Will a tiny bit more willing to get on that death trap, if it meant getting Nico alone.

He blushed, bright stupid red he was sure, and stiffened his spine. “Fine,” he said, petulant, “let’s go.” He marched right past Nico, making sure to bump into his shoulder — to cause him pain, obviously, not because he couldn’t stop touching him — and stalked up to the terrifying machine. He forced himself not to hesitate as he clambered on the back, though he suspected his obstinance was ruined by how awkward he looked trying to maneuver onto the bike. He glared at Nico challengingly.

Grinning, Nico just strolled over to him, which totally ruined Will’s already half-faked anger, because Nico was really _here_ and he looked _so fucking good_ in those jeans and Will was _so weak_. With casual, cocky grace that no one should be capable of when lifting their leg that high and throwing it over a giant metal death trap, Nico slid onto the bike in front of him. He turned and looked over his shoulder, eyes gleaming like he knew exactly what Will was thinking. Will tried to keep up his glare, but he hadn’t seen this angle of Nico’s face in months and gods, he loved that jawline.

Nico shifted, grin dimming and a need that echoed Will’s own replacing it. Torso twisted to face him, Nico leant back and grabbed a fistful of Will’s shirt, tugging him forward and smashing their mouths together.

Unlike their last, this was a deep, hungry, _filthy_ kiss that had Will’s heart rate — and probably blood pressure — skyrocketing. He kissed back desperately, skin flashing hot as their tongues tumbled past each other to re-explore the other’s mouth. He hadn’t really realized he could miss a taste until he tasted Nico again, sweet and warm but with a tingling coolness like mint. Without really meaning to, he bit at Nico’s bottom lip in protest when he tried to pull away. Nico groaned, barely audible but enough to curl Will’s toes, and pressed back into the kiss for another long moment, before reluctantly separating.

For half a second, they sat there, Nico turned awkwardly backward, his hand still fisted in Will’s shirt, only inches apart, breathing heavily and unable to break eye contact. It was just long enough for Will to remember they were in a very public place, and his crowd of peers just got a hell of a show. He decided he might care on Monday. Right then, all he cared about was how Nico still shied away from holding hands in public sometimes, if he wasn’t sure who was around or if he was just feeling skittish, how that kiss told him _fuck I missed you too_ better than words could ever have said it.

Then Nico flashed a little smile and flipped his glasses down. He passed Will a plain black helmet.

“Hold on tight, sunshine,” he said, with a heart-stopping, dimpled grin, voice rough and low from the kiss. He slipped his own helmet, a much sleeker thing, over his long hair.

The machine below him rumbled to life, and Nico revved the engine.

“You are such an asshole,” Will shouted over the noise, but he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms tightly around Nico’s middle and slide a little closer so they were back-to-chest.

Nico’s laughter and the sputter of the engine trailed them out of the parking lot, Will’s sunny laugh punctuating it as they turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

*

“Holy _shit_ ,” was exclaimed by about half the population of Austin High in the wake of their departure. Zane and Jamie said it with matching grins.

**Author's Note:**

> Ta-da!
> 
> I am SO HERE for Punk Nico. I was thinking about how I wanted to write one of these, but with the roles reversed, then I was like hey, what if Nico was a little shit - like always - and showed up at Will's school looking like he's in a biker gang? So, boom, fic.
> 
> The title is because I kept listening to Fall Out Boy's new album (yes, I am one with Nico when it comes to music taste) and the line "I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker color" kept playing when I was trying to think of a title. And, you know, it's accurate for Nico "what's a color I've never heard of this are you sure it's real" di Angelo. So, there you go. The universe made me do it.
> 
> Also, I know nothing really happens between them here, but I'm aging them up to senior year, so 17 or 18, because it freaks me out less. I guess maybe a few years have passed? Whatever.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought :)


End file.
